M-Platoon

Chapter 10 - Howlett

(Y/n) sighed, as she looked at the now empty bottle, before reaching into her bag to pull out the second bottle of scotch that Justin had gifted to her. The captain chuckling to herself, sure that her friend must have known she would need both, given what they had seen in the files. (Y/n) cracking the seal on the bottle and pouring a generous amount in not only her glass, but also the other one on the table; sure, that Howlett looked like the kind of man that would not turn down a drink.

She had to admit, that the thirteen men she had already met, were more of a ragtag group then she could ever have dreamed. Only able to imagine how some of them might have been abandoned and abused by not only strangers, but also family. And now, here they were together, and she had to not only make them into a cohesive team; but work though all the issues that they had. (Y/n) having a feeling that this was never gonna be easy; but when were thing that were truly worthwhile, ever easy; and she did have a plan. An idea that had been formulating in her mind since she had spoken to Sanchez on the ride to the camp. And if it all went well, it would not only prove to her men that it was better if they were to work together; but it would show the powers that be, mutants should not be underestimated.

"ENTER!" (Y/n) called out, as a loud knock came to the door. The captain leaning back in her chair, as the door slowly opened to reveal the first of the ferals. His form not filling the whole space like Dekker's had; but he was still impressive.

She hadn't really met his kind before; she knew of them, of course; knew of their reputation for being a little gruff and stubborn, a little hard to work with. Yet she also knew that if you could prove yourself to one, you would gain yourself a loyal and trustworthy friend; someone that you could really rely on in a fight. And if there was one thing she needed, it was a friend.

"So........." She began, as the tall man moved into the room. Closing the door behind him, before saluting.

"You are the glue that keeps that band of misfits together......." (Y/n) continued, pointing to the chair across from her, and pushing the half full glass across the desk as Howlett took a seat.

"What makes ya think that..........?"

"Because Sargent, I have ears and eyes........" The captain replied, as she took the cap from her head and combed her fingers through her hair.

"I've seen your file......very impressive, by the way; and I have listened to every man that has stepped foot through that door. So, I would say, that if it wasn't for you, these boys wouldn't still be together; some maybe even finding themselves in the stockade, because they'd used their abilities for something dumb." (Y/n) continued, as she raised her glass. A small smile pulling at her lips, as the Sargent returned her gesture, before they both drank.

"I can't imagine that it's been easy; that the camp commander has any more sympathy towards mutants, than the general has. I can't imagine that any of you get looked on as anything but freaks by every man in this camp. I also have a feeling that they would like to see you anywhere, but here..........."

"And what about you.........?" Howlett asked, as he scrutinised the new XO. A little part of him sure that he had seen the man across from him, before. James shaking the notion from his mind; for the man the new captain resembled, he had met during the last war over twenty years before, and Jim knew that he had been killed.

"Me.....well, I am nothing like them. You see, unfortunately I have always had an issue with anyone above the rank of captain. I have a slight reputation for questioning orders, especially stupid ones, which has earned me the status of being a troublemaker. And as such, the general gave me a choice; try and make a decent platoon out of another bunch of misfits, or find myself locked up for the rest of the war. And as I don't suit prison grey, I chose this. That, and unlike the big brass, I understand that mutants exist all over the world. That if we have a platoon, I am positive that the German's do too. I am sure that they are over there in Europe, treating people with mutations, like lab rats; finding out how they can use them to their advantage. Hurting men, women and children in the name of the father land and the glory of the Reich. Well, I don't like that.......I don't like any of it, Sargent Howlett. So, I have every intention of showing General Henderson, Eisenhower, Macarthur, hell, even President Roosevelt himself if I have to, that mutants.......that this platoon, can and will be the best, the deadliest, the most feared that the army has.........."

"And what if you can't? What if those boys.......what if I don't want to listen to you.......? What if we want you gone, just like Drake?" Howlett asked. (Y/n) offering him a box of matches, as he took his stogie from his pocket. James nodding his thanks, before striking a match and lighting the cigar.

"Then......well then, Sargent; you, me and every last one of those boys out there, will either be used as cannon fodder on some stupid, suicidal mission; or we will end up in a cell next to one another. And as much as I am sure that my neck wouldn't get stretched for some idiotic reason; I can't say that your brother, will be as lucky........" The captain explained. James chewing on the end of his cigar, his eyes locked on the new XO at the mention of his relationship to Victor.

"From what I have read, Victor Creed is only still here, still alive, because there are lots of people that respect you, Sargent. Your brother already has a terrible disciplinary record, and we haven't been in England that long. Fights with MPs, disagreements with locals, stolen jeeps........the list goes on and on. And I have a feeling that if I can't make this work, Sargent Creed will find himself in a very dire situation." (Y/n) told the feral, as they both finished off their drinks, and she poured another.

"So, I am not ordering you to accept me. I am not ordering you listen to me. I'm not going to tell you that you have to work with me, or else. What I am going to do, is ask you to do all those things. I am going to ask that you give me a chance to prove that I want nothing more than what's best for all those men. A chance to bring them together and show everyone that they are a force to be reckoned with. And if I can't, then I will run myself outta here, before Creed even gets to do it. So........what do you say, sarg? Give me a chance..........?" The question hanging in the air, as Howlett took a deep drag of his stogie, before pulling it from between his lips and examining it. (Y/n) finding herself quite taken by the brooding air that surrounded him. It obvious that Howlett was a man of few words. But then, (Y/n) had always preferred actions to words. Her eyes never leaving him, as he picked up his glass and raised it.

"Welcome to M-Platoon.........sir."